Spartans On A Plane
by lord-of-all-kobuns
Summary: Leonidas and his pals try to go to Ohio, but unforeseen dangers await...


"Spartans!" Leonidas roared. "What is your goal!"

"TO CHECK IN! TO CHECK IN!" the Spartans called back.

The lady behind the Delta counter sighed. It was going to be a long day.

Leonidas marched up to the check-in desk.

"Fair lady!" he shouted. "We wish to check our luggage!"

"Yes, yes, all right," the unfortunate receptionist sighed. "No need to shout. Simply place all items of luggage on this scale."

She regretted giving this order as soon as it passed her lips, as the Spartans all cheered and threw badly-wrapped hammers, axes, and other instruments of death onto the scale. The receptionist looked at all the pointy objects before staring at Leonidas.

"Sir," she said, "You have to check that in."

She was gesturing to Leonidas' sword. The Spartan looked down.

"Fair lady, this cannot be separated from me!" he exclaimed. "I need my sword!"

The receptionist cradled her head in her hands. Leonidas' constant shouting was getting to her. She decided to give in.

"Sir, please, just tell me where you are going."

"We are going to Ohio!" Leonidas roared. "Spartans! Tonight, we dine in Cleveland!"

The Spartans cheered. The receptionist groaned.

"Sir, please hand over your papers," she said.

"Certainly, dear lady!" Leonidas cried, fishing into his fauld, withdrawing a crumpled stack of papers, and handing them to the receptionist. She quickly flipped through them, printed a sheaf of tickets, and handed them to Leonidas.

"Enjoy your flight," she said, her head really throbbing now.

"HYUH! HYUH! HYUH!" the Spartans chorused, before marching to security with Leonidas.

The receptionist took an early lunch break.

The Spartans marched up to the line leading into security. Ahead of them, a bald black man was arguing with a man at the metal detector.

"Sir!" the security guard was saying, exasperatedly. "We need to scan you!"

"I've been through this checkpoint five times!" raged the bald man. "Enough is enough! I have HAD IT with this motherfucking security in this motherfucking airport!"

"Sir, I-"

"Do you know who I am? I'm Jack L. Samson, you piece of shit! Screw with me, and it will be the last thing you do!"

"This is madness!" the lady operating the x-ray machine screamed.

"Sir!" the security man said. He was obviously angry and embarrassed, but he knew how to handle situations like this. He had been to security guard school. "I don't care if you're the President of the United States! I said I'd scan you, and by God, I'm going to scan you! If you don't like it, you can march your ass right out the door!"

Jack L. Samson drew himself up and looked ready to start shouting again, but seemed to think better of it. Calmly, he replied, "All right, then, scan me."

After Samson had left to find his gate, the Spartans dutifully shuffled through the metal detector. Leonidas was the last to go. As he walked through, the metal detector beeped. The X-ray lady looked at him with a weary look in her eyes. The Spartan reached in his cape and pulled out a sword, which he placed on the conveyor belt before stepping through the archway. It beeped again. This time, Leonidas withdrew a dagger from his cape, and stepped through the metal detector once more. It beeped yet again. Leonidas looked confused for a moment, before reaching into his shoes and pulling out two knives. When the metal detector beeped for a fourth time, Leonidas leaned closer to the X-ray lady and whispered.

"Am I going to have to take all my clothes off?" he asked.

"No!" the lady exclaimed. "Just go!"

Leonidas picked up the weapons, stowed them, and set off with his friends.

"Spartans!" Leonidas called. "What is the gate number again?"

"Gate 14! Gate 14!" the Spartans shouted in unison, and they all marched to Gate 14. The bottles in the duty-free liquor store rattled with the pounding of many feet.

When they reached the gate, Leonidas halted the army, and they all spread out to find seats. Leonidas ended up sitting next to none other than Jack L. Samson. Samson was talking on his cell phone in the manner that all people in airports talk on cell phones: loudly.

"No!" he shouted. "I want this over with, and I do not want to have to take the guy to the station by myself!"

"Is there something wrong?" Leonidas asked.

"Shut the fuck up, Muscleman!" Jack barked. "This ain't none of your Goddamn business!"

"That's blasphemy!" an old woman sitting near Samson gasped.

"It doesn't matter what you think!" Samson responded, angrily.

Leonidas looked over at his Spartans. They were carrying on intelligent conversations as only Spartans can do.

"I must've sacked about thirty to forty odd cities," one was saying. "I always got to remember, though, you rape the WOMEN and set fire to the HOUSES."

"Yeah, it won't do to confuse the two," another one responded. "I think I might have, once. It was my first time looting and pillaging, and I got confused."

A bell sounded on the PA system.

"Flight 300 to Cleveland, Ohio, is now boarding. Will all passengers please have their boarding passes and passports ready."

The Spartans cheered, and rushed toward the boarding area, tickets held high. A security worker checked them all, and they boarded the plane, along with Samson and the other passengers.

"Spartans! What are our seats?" Leonidas asked his friends.

"Rows 14 through 22!" roared the Spartans, and the entire company made their way to their seats.

Leonidas ended up sitting next to a very pretty girl, who was holding a Nintendo DS. She looked at Leonidas warily.

"Fair maiden, do not be alarmed!" said Leonidas. "I shall not hurt you! Girl! What is your name?"

"M-Meg," the girl stammered, still staring at the Spartan's battle-scarred body.

"Girl! What is your profession?"

"I'm a student."

"Ah! A scholar!" Leonidas smiled, which didn't make him look any less intimidating. "I never had much use for school, myself! It's easy to use a sword; you just point the sharp end at your enemies and poke!"

He was interrupted by the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Delta Flight 300 to Cleveland. I am your captain, Nathaniel Hardy, and I hope you have a pleasant flight. Our flight attendants will now show you what to do in case of an emergency, but I doubt that is going to happen."

Screens lowered from the ceiling, and the security video played. No one watched it.

"We're cleared for takeoff," Captain Nathaniel's voice said, "and we shall be in the air shortly. Please make sure your seatbelt is fastened, and put your tray table and seat in the upright position."

Ten minutes later, the plane took off. Leonidas looked at Meg, who was playing her DS.

"Fair maiden, what is it you are amusing yourself with?" Leonidas asked in his carrying voice.

"It's called "Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney," Meg replied, still staring at Leonidas with a nervous look in her eyes.

"I say, these seats are rather narrow, aren't they?" Leonidas asked.

"I-I have to go to the bathroom," Meg said, and hurriedly left. She ran to the front of the plane, taking her things with her.

Leonidas stared around. His Spartans were continuing their conversations from earlier.

"Sometimes," sighed one woefully, "I wonder if this is all there is to life. Quaffing and carousing is all well and good, but there are times when I wonder if there's more to life."

"Oh dear, I hope not!" commented another.

Leonidas looked at who was sitting in front of him. It was Jack L. Samson, the man from earlier. He was talking into his SkyPhone.

"Look! I don't care if you have to drive a hot dog sandwich to the damn airport! You need to pick up this guy for me, because there's no way in Hell I am taking him down to the station!"

He saw Leonidas staring at him.

"What the hell do you want, Muscleman?" he shouted.

"Nothing, sir!" Leonidas shouted back.

"Then turn around and leave me the hell alone!" Samson shot back.

The intercom bell sounded, and Captain Nathaniel's voice echoed throughout the plane.

"Hi, everybody!" he said. "I am delighted to say that we have a great dinner for you, consisting of macaroni and cheese, green beans, and a Caketown brand cake, made especially for this airline. Dinner will be served in half an hour, and will include a choice of drinks. Also, the inflight movie will be Dinosaurs in a Cab. Have a nice day!"

When he stopped talking, the "Fasten Your Seatbelt" sign was turned off. Leonidas stood up, hit his head on the low-hanging ceiling, and stepped into the aisle. He headed to the lavatory, which was occupied.

As Leonidas was waiting, a line gathered behind him. After five minutes had passed, the person standing behind him tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey," said a blonde-haired teenager in glasses. "Is someone in there?"

"Indeed there is," Leonidas replied. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

"That's strange," the glasses kid muttered. "Ah well, nothing to do but wait." He smiled. "I'm Matt, by the way. What's your name?"

"I am King Leonidas!" Leonidas said proudly, and he shook Matt's hand with crushing force.

The line was getting long now, so Leonidas tried knocking on the door again.

"Excuse me!" he called through the door, his fist beating against metal.

"What's the holdup?" someone in the line asked, impatiently. Leonidas knocked again.

"I would like to ask you to hurry up!" he shouted at the top of his voice. When there was no response, Leonidas grew angry.

"GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM!" he roared, and smashed the door with his foot. The girl inside shrieked.

"Falcon YES!" Matt shouted, and pumped his fist in the air.

Deep in the cargo hold, a strange-looking case sat. It looked a bit like a Companion Cube. It made a beeping sound, hissed, and opened.

At the same time, a raven-haired man made his way to the cockpit, fork in hand.

Meanwhile, Leonidas was having trouble with his choice of complimentary beverage.

"What do you mean, you don't sell beer in flagons?" he asked, shocked.

"It's not something we are usually asked for, sir!" sighed the exasperated flight attendant.

"My men-"

"Your 'men' seem to be doing just fine with bottles, sir."

Leonidas glared at her for a moment.

"Fine, then," he said. "I shall take two bottles."

The flight attendant opened two bottles of beer and handed them to Leonidas, before handing him his plastic tray of food.

"Enjoy your meal," she said, and left.

Leonidas dug in. It tasted like airplane food always does: like corrugated cardboard topped with salad cream. The king looked over at his men, who were eating with gusto. One of them was attacking the cake with particular viciousness.

"This is delicious!" the Spartan said.

"This is CAKETOWN!" roared Leonidas. He swung his sword in a high arc, decapitating a nearby flight attendant.

"Oh dear," said a Spartan.

"Spartans! Help me dispose of the body!" Leonidas shouted. His men obediently stood up, picked up the flight attendant and her head, opened the plane door, and threw the pieces of the flight attendant out. Then, they sat back down as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

Suddenly, there was a sound of a loud scuffle, and a man with long hair came flying out of the cockpit area. His pilot's hat was askew.

"Ow!" Captain Nathaniel said, loudly. "Oh well, at least I'm not dead."

The intercom dinged. A very strange voice addressed the passengers.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" the voice said. "I am tonight's entertainment! My name is Garth Vedder, and I'm taking over this plane!"

"Damn it!" shouted Jack L. Samson, who was still sitting in front of Leonidas.

"Why so serious, Mr. Samson?" Vedder asked. "You were supposed to be watching me, were you not? You failed, and were pushed to the ground… figuratively speaking."

Samson was getting out of his seat.

"I wouldn't do that, Mr. Samson," Vedder said, amused. "I have a fork. Surely you remember what I can do with a fork."

Samson's eyes grew wide, and he slowly sat down.

"Good," said Vedder, amused. "Now, I've left a bit of a present in the cargo hold. I'd say you have about ten minutes to live, so enjoy it while you can."

As soon as the intercom turned off, an obese teenager and his equally fat girlfriend jumped out of their seats.

"Well, Amber," the boy said. "No time like the present!"

"Oh, Nelson, I was hoping you'd say that!" Amber sighed, and they made their way to the bathroom, climbed over the pieces of the broken door, and ripped each others' clothes off. The loud sounds of their lovemaking echoed throughout the plane.

"This is disgusting!" one of the passengers said, shaking his head.

"This is-" Leonidas started to shout, until two screams interrupted him. Everyone's heads swiveled towards the bathroom. Five snakes crawled out.

"Oh, SHIT!" Samson said in his eloquent manner.

"Snakes? On MY plane?" Captain Nathaniel gasped.

"It's more likely than you think," Samson said, grimly.

A scream came from the other bathroom, and a woman tore out of there in a panic.

"Snakes! They're coming out from the toilet!" she shrieked.

"No!" a voice Leonidas recognized as Matt's gasped. "Not the toilets!"

There was one thing to do. Leonidas got to his feet, and Samson joined him.

"I'll be in charge of taking this asshole out," Samson told the terrified passengers, who were now at their feet. "I let him get this far, and it's my responsibility to get him back."

Leonidas clapped him on the shoulder, and Samson took off to the cockpit. Leonidas stared at all his Spartans, and at all the people on the plane.

"Passengers!" he roared. "Prepare for war!"

As one, the passengers on the plane turned to look at the river of snakes heading towards them. Captain Nathaniel started the chant.

"Kill the snakes! Kill the snakes!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Slowly but surely, the rest of the people joined in.

"Kill the snakes! Kill the snakes! Kill the snakes!"

Captain Nathaniel suddenly dove forward and grabbed a snake. Screaming in beserk rage, he started pulling the snake, trying to rip it in half with his teeth.

"I will not be having snakes on my plane!" he yelled. The snake sank its fangs into Nathaniel's neck. Slowly, he sank down to the floor, dead.

The sight of the dead captain galvanized everyone into action. As the wall of snakes grew nearer, passengers started grabbing all instruments of destruction they could find. Leonidas and his Spartans drew their swords.

"Danny?" one passenger asked another.

"Yes, Emily?" Danny responded.

"It's time kick some snake ass."

And they stabbed their plastic forks into the snakes' heads.

The Spartans were hacking away at the wave of snakes. Suddenly, there was a scream. Meg was cornered by almost fifty snakes. They slithered nearer and nearer, as Meg stood as close to the wall as possible. A blur flew past Leonidas. Matt had rushed to Meg's aid, and was stomping on the snakes, shouting words through gritted teeth as he stomped.

"Stay away from my Megan Stuhlmuller, you slimy! Scaly! Sons! OF! A! BITCH!"

The snakes that were a threat only a few moments ago now lay in a bloody mass, their heads far away from their bodies.

"…Thanks," Meg said, not looking at Matt.

"Meg," Matt said, turning to her. "Will you forgive me?"

Before she could answer, they were interrupted by Samson and Vedder wrestling through the aisles. Samson had Vedder in a headlock.

"Hey, asshole!" Samson shouted at Vedder. "We've killed all your snakes!"

Vedder smiled.

"I think not," he said, and, reaching inside his purple coat, flipped a switch. More snakes burst from the back of the plane. The passengers were ready. The Spartans raised their blades and shouted ancient war cries. Three passengers stormed forward with the Spartans.

"Get them, Baris!" one called.

"You got it, Nathon!" Baris responded, enjoying the whole thing. "You all right, Mary?"

"RAGING STORM!" Mary shrieked.

"Good," said Baris.

The snakes continued to advance.

"Enough is enough!" Samson screamed. "I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!"

As he was distracted, Vedder kicked him in the face. He had gained the upper hand. He stood over Samson, a triumphant expression on his face.

"Isn't it sad, Samson?" he asked, an expression of mock pity on his face.

"Go…to…Hell!" spat Samson.

"Oh, undoubtedly I shall, in the end," said Vedder, smiling his twisted smile. Slowly he raised his fork.

"Goodby-"

Before he could do anything, there was a clanging sound, and Vedder stumbled. Behind him stood Meg, a frying pan clutched in both hands. Leonidas, who had been fighting the snakes, stepped forward and delivered a huge right hook to the Vedder's right arm. There was a very audible crack.

"You broke my arm!" Vedder cried.

"I'll break your head!" Leonidas roared, and shoved Vedder toward the open door.

"What madness is this?" Vedder screamed.

"Madness?" Leonidas' face broke into a mirthless smile. "THIS! IS! SPARTA!"

And he kicked Vedder into the open air.

"DO NOT WANT!" screamed Vedder, and he fell.

The whole cabin was a mess of snake guts, blood-soaked passengers, and broken objects.

"DAMN!" exclaimed Samson. "Thanks for that."

Suddenly, he gasped.

"We have no pilot!" he moaned. "How're we gonna land the plane?"

The passengers stared at each other in horror. A voice spoke up.

"Um, I could fly the plane. I have prior experience," said a man in flight goggles.

"Who the hell are you?" barked Samson.

"I'm Ben Credable," Credable replied.

"What are you waiting for, man?" Samson asked. "Get in the cockpit!"

Credable hurried toward the cockpit. Samson followed, and the rest of the passengers gathered around, listening.

"So, Ben, what prior experience do you have?" Samson asked.

"I'm great with videogames," Credable replied, fiddling with the dashboard.

Samson was about to explode, before deciding that it wasn't in anyone's best interest to fly off the handle right now.

"Right," he replied. "I'll be copilot. Just tell me what to do."

Credable made the plane descend, bringing a large construction site into view.

"Move to the left," Credable told Samson. The plane angled to the left.

"OK…" Credable continued. "Right a bit, and rotate it 90 degrees counter-clockwise."

"Uh, kid," Samson said, getting suspicious. "What game you been playing?"

"Tetris."

"Oh, HELL no!" Samson yelped, and grabbed the controls.

"No!" Credable shouted. "You're supposed make a line!"

Samson flew the plane to the construction site, crashing it on the ground. As the passengers stumbled out of the cabin, a carpenter in a red hat and overalls ran up.

"What just happened?" the carpenter asked in a high-pitched voice.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," Samson replied. "Help me with the bodies!"

"Okey-dokey," the carpenter said, and together, he and Samson carried the wounded out of there.

In his home in Long Island, New York, Mick Foley turned on the TV.

"…Plane headed for Cleveland, Ohio, was hijacked by an unknown party," the newscaster was saying. "Remarkably, only three died due to the snake bites, including the pilot, Nathaniel Hardy. However, nine are dead due to a crash landing. All were members of a group called "The Spartans". Policeman and actor Jack L. Samson, who was on the flight, was unavailable for comment…"


End file.
